Anniversary
by Tragediane
Summary: Sam and G celebrate the anniversary of their five-year partnership.
1. Anniversary, 1

**Another less serious short story with at least two chapters. Enjoy!**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Title: Anniversary**

**Rating: T**

**Story Premise: **Sam and G celebrate the anniversary of their five-year partnership.

**Category: **Humor/Angst Short Story

**WARNINGS: None**

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

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**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

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**Anniversary**

The moment Hetty left NCIS Headquarters on the day of their five year anniversary, Sam and G breathed out huge sighs of relief. They eyed one another again and strode across the expanse between the bullpen and Hetty's office.

G opened the cabinet where his supervisor kept her alcohol. It was filled with more than her Scotch. "Have a particular request?"

"The best she has to offer our palates."

"Not particular?" He crouched down and examined the contents.

"No." Sam crouched down next to his partner.

G sat on the floor before the cabinet and removed all the bottles of alcohol and liquors.

"Liquors." Sam settled next to his partner on the floor and picked up a stout bottle of crystal clear liquid. "Let's start with this, Gran Patrón Platinum Silver Tequila."

"Start?"

"Yes, I want more than one taste of her stash." He opened the bottle and took a swig. "Smooth, fruity and woody."

G grasped the bottle in his partner's hand and pressed his lips to the top. Sam tilted the bottle, pouring the liquid into his partner's mouth. "I'll agree, a smooth liquor."

"The best in smooth liquor." Sam took another short swig of the liquor. "Wish I had some food to balance out the alcohol."

"Yes, and one of the most expensive liquors." G opened another bottle and took a swig from it. "The Glenlivet XXV scotch, the good stuff Hetty hides from us. Yes, I'll agree we need to eat something."

"And after this, she'll lock her cabinet and carry the key around her neck."

"Probably."

"Let's order a pizza."

"Delivered here?" G asked. "She'll have our hides."

"My hide is had." A wide grin spread over Sam's face.

He chuckled. "Too much alcohol already." G downed several more gulps of scotch, pulled out his cell phone, and ordered two pizzas one double cheese and one with all the toppings. "Pizza it is. Let's wait for it at the bottom of the driveway."

Sam and G strode down to the driveway entrance, bottles of alcohol in their hands and waited for the pizza delivery.

"Did you see Granger's face when he realized he had the wrong partner?" Sam asked. "That was priceless."

"The smirk which normally plasters his face turned downward."

"Makes you almost feel sorry for the guy."

"Almost?" G pointed to the stitches above his left eye. "What about this?"

"It had to be convincing," Sam said, "want me to kiss it and make it better?" He stepped closer to his partner.

"Don't you even—" He moved backward too fast and fell on his butt on the cement sidewalk.

"Want me to kiss that too?" He roared with laughter as he stood over his partner.

G chuckled. "No, I'll skip your first aid administrations." Sam offered his partner a hand up and he took it. "Thanks partner."

"I pulled my punches or your face and ribs would need more than stitches."

"Yes, I know, thanks," he said. "I remember the first time we used that scenario, 'bad partner, good partner.' I told you to pull your punches next time."

"And you thought it hurt then."

"Yes, this was the worst."

"I can kiss them and make it better—"

"Would you cut it out!"

"I'll guess I'll stick with administering the pain instead of relieving it."

"Did you kiss your little girl's injuries?"

"All the time and she says they feel better afterward."

"I'll pass." G smirked. He heard the pizza delivery van arrive and turned to pay the driver and accept their dinner.

They strode side by side back to headquarters and settled onto the floor in front of Hetty's liquor cabinet. After downing several slices of each pizza, Sam and G reclined on their sides with a bottle of alcohol in their hands.

"To five more years." G held up his bottle waiting for Sam to toast him too.

"To another five years, agreed." He clinked his bottle against his partner's.

They both downed a couple of more swigs.

"Here's hoping we can devise alternative scenarios when we get in a bind." G clinked his bottle against his partner's.

"Here's hoping I can punch you again."

G pulled his bottle back. "What?"

"Got you, man."

"You really want to punch me?"

"I like that scenario, we play it well."

"It's getting old."

"Maybe you're getting old."

"Watch it," G said, setting his bottle aside and shoving the pizzas away from them. "You're asking for a wrestling match."

"Too bad Deeks hasn't given you any more pointers," Sam said, setting his bottle aside.

"Don't need any—"

Sam pounced on top of his partner in seconds flat, pinning him to the floor and pushing the man's arms above his head.

"Watch the ribs, they are sore." G squirmed under his partner's stronger, bulkier body. Sam relaxed his hold on his partner for a minute, releasing his hands. It was all the time G needed to execute his first and final move. He twisted his body, turned hard to his right, and threw his partner off his upper body. G plastered Sam to the floor face first and scissor-locked his legs around his partner's powerful, muscular legs.

"That was one sly move."

"Sly as a fox."

"Got any more smart aleck remarks?"

"Nope." G pressed his upper body against Sam's back and wrapped his arm's around the man's neck in a chokehold. "Smart aleck moves."

"Deeks must've trained you recently."

"Nope, I watched some wrestling videos."

"Uncle."

"Give me a swig of your liquor and I'll think about releasing you."

Sam grabbed the bottle and pressed it to his partner's lips.

G swallowed several mouthfuls of the smooth liquor. "Now I'm relaxed and I've got myself the most comfortable couch at NCIS Headquarters."

"Watch it, man."

"Nope, I'm resting here for a while."

"This is about as abnormal as me kissing your injuries."

"Yes, it is, and you know you like it."

"I'm not into kinky stuff like you."

"That's gonna cost you at least five more minutes of my time." G laid his head sideways on Sam's back.

"Come on, man, do your sleeping elsewhere."

Within minutes of lying his head on his partner's back, his eyes closed and he started breathing more shallow. G relaxed into the muscular form beneath him.

"G?" Sam glanced over his shoulder.

G released his chokehold and his legs slipped from around his partner's legs.

"G?" Sam gently pushed his partner off his body onto the wood floor next to him. Out cold. He drank several more swigs of the smooth liquor and set his bottle back down on the floor. Sam settled on his side again and within minutes he too closed his eyes and started to breathe slower.

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**Thanks for reading. More to follow.**


	2. Jaguar XK, 2

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed**

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**Jaguar XK**

**Chapter 2**

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Absolutely," G said, slurring his speech while climbing into the driver's seat of his Jaguar XK.

"Yes, only if you want your hide sitting in jail over night." Sam climbed into the passenger's seat.

"No adventure."

"Didn't say that, but your speech is altered."

"And yours isn't much better."

"Agreed."

"Placating me?"

Sam sighed. "Start it before I change my mind." He lifted the tequila off the floorboard.

G revved the engine louder than he would on an ops. He peeled out of the driveway, tires squealing. "Leave some for me."

"Show off." He wrapped the paper bag around the tequila and took a few swigs. Sam handed the bottle over to his partner. "So this is what it feels like to go 'Lone Wolf.'" He chuckled and reclined his seat.

"What?" G handed his partner back the tequila.

"I'd say this is—" Sam grabbed the sissy bar and held on tight. "What the hell are you doing, man?" He repositioned his seat upright.

"Driving drunk."

"Be careful."

"I'm trying but alcohol and driving don't mix."

"They never do." Sam chuckled.

"What so funny?"

"You and what you said about Granger."

"Which part?"

"After you woke up while lying next to me."

"You know your back was more comfortable than the hard floor." G winked at his partner.

"I told you not to got there again."

He swerved hard right, racing onto the PCH. "Now comes the fun."

Sam leaned over and eyed the speedometer. "Make sure there's no cops behind you."

"How about beside me?"

"Smart ass."

"Thought so too." The left corner of G's mouth turned upward. He pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard. "Check the rearview mirror."

Instead of scanning behind him in the mirror, he glanced over his left shoulder. "We're in trouble."

"I looked before I decided to have some fun." He swerved hard to his left and then changed lanes again.

"And you saw what—" Sam grabbed the sissy bar again and tightened his grip. "At least keep it on two wheels."

"Which two?" G chuckled.

"Funny guy."

"Funny, inebriated guy."

"I stand corrected."

"You sit corrected."

"Remember when you got doppelgänged up on this highway."

"Don't remind me," G said, glancing in his review mirror to be certain they had lost their police escort.

"Are they gone?"

He pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard again and watched the police escort shrink from his view. "They are now."

Sam leaned over the center console. "Should be, you're going well over the speed limit."

"Back seat, no make that, front seat driver." G winked at his partner and chuckled.

"And where are you taking us?"

"Up the coast a ways."

Sam took a long swig of the expensive tequila. "Sounds like an adventure."

"And you love adventures," G said. "Save me some."

He handed the bottle over to his partner. "Drink the rest."

He grabbed the bottle and yelled.

"Give me the bottle quick!" Sam confiscated the bottle from his partner.

G completed a series of expert maneuvers through a police road block.

"Not good, man, we're in deep—"

"Only if we get caught."

"What do you mean?" Sam said. "They now have our license number, make of car, year—"

"Name, rank and serial number." He chuckled.

"G, this isn't funny."

"It is to me," he said, "we've undercover agents, remember."

"Yes, drunk undercover agents who are now eluding the police."

"Oh well, nobody's perfect." G winked at his partner again.

"I hear a sound you're not gonna like."

"The sound of your plumbing backing up?" He chuckled.

"Can't you be serious?"

"Nope, having too much fun with you."

"Helicopter, G, okay, not one."

"Not one helicopter, that's good."

"G!"

"Hey, I was having fun with you."

"This is serious."

"Yes, serious fun." G pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard again. "Looks as if we got that police escort again."

"I think we should seriously think about pulling over," Sam said.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"You're ruining my fun." G weaved in and out of traffic, keeping well ahead of their escort service. "This isn't the exactly the kind of escort service we should have following us."

"What?"

G chuckled.

"I don't think this is—"

"'_Pull your vehicle over to the curb. I repeat, pull your vehicle over to the curb.'"_

"Talking helicopters."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm drunk, man, completely out of my gourd, because I just heard a talking helicopter," G said. "Tell me I'm not hearing things."

"Pull over to the curb before they start firing on us."

"Our escort service has guns?"

"What are you talking about, man?"

"The escort service."

"G, they are our police escort, the one you've tried numerous E & E maneuvers on for the past 30 minutes."

"Now you are worrying me."

"I'm serious."

"Too serious," he said. "I'm hallucinating and you are telling me the police are escorting us somewhere."

"G, pull over, now," Sam said. "If you don't I'll knock you out."

"You'd knock your partner out?"

"To save your ass I would."

"With what?"

"Come on, G, just pull over before I conk you out with this tequila bottle."

"You'd hit me in the head with that?"

"'_Pull over to the curb. This is your last chance.'"_

"You know what that means."

"Speed up."

"G!"

"Okay, I guess I'd better pull over because I just heard the helicopter talk again and my head is starting to pound and I'm feeling a little queasy and—"

"Would you just shut up and pull over."

G rolled down the window and vomited. He pulled over to the center divider and turned off the Jaguar XK's engine. "Guess we'd better wait for instructions." He watched as ten police cruisers surrounded them on all sides, closing off the PCH to all traffic. "I think this escort service is over the top."

"G, they are cops, not an escort service," Sam said. "I don't know what you've been drinking."

"Same as you."

"Remember not to imbibe in tequila again."

"Why?"

"I think you are sensitive to the worm."

"What worm?"

"You really have gone where no undercover agent's gone before, Lone Wolf on tequila."

"Now there's a new way to go Lone Wolf." He rolled down his window all the way. Sam followed suit.

Two officers approached the car, weapons drawn. They split up their team and each took a side of the car. "Registration and license."

"I can explain—"

"Mister, I don't want explanations, I want your registration and license."

"I, damn." G glanced over at his partner.

"Don't tell me."

"Okay, I won't." He chuckled.

"This isn't funny, G."

"It was."

"Not now." He opened the glove compartment and stared at the empty space. "Now we're in deep trouble."

"Hands out the car windows, now!"

Sam and G shoved their hands out the car windows.

"First the driver, step out of your car, nice and easy."

"I don't know if—"

"How much have you had to drink, mister?"

"What?" G asked, as he stumbled out of the driver's side door, nearly performing a face plant on the PCH's center divider. He managed to steady himself at the last minute.

"Hands in the air. Back to me."

"You are making a big mistake."

"Do it now!"

G raised his arms in the air and turned around. He tried to focus his blurry eyes on the officers before him, pointing high powered rifles at his head.

"Back up, slowly."

He stepped backwards and stumbled again, this time falling to his knees.

"Stay where you are."

G hurled again. Sam was right tequila was not a good friend of his. The behemoth of an officer grabbed G's arms and shoved them behind his back, cuffing his wrists together. The guy looked ex-military and probably was. G decided to cooperate and not fight anything the officer wanted to do with him.

"That's it, cooperation is your friend right now," the officer said. "Stand." He helped his drunk driver to his feet. "It's obvious you had a few too many. Let's confirm that. Breathe into this for me."

G swayed on his feet. Bile creeped to the back of his throat, before he breathed into the machine, he hurled again, this time more violently.

The officer wiped the driver's mouth with a tissue. "Quickly, breathe into this."

G obeyed the officer and nearly passed out from the lack of oxygen and the effects of the tequila.

"You are well over the legal limit," he said. "It's jail time for you, mister." The officer guided his DUI driver over to the cruiser and eased him into the back seat. "Watch your head."

"How do I do that, I can't see it?" G chuckled.

"I don't know what you've been drinking, but I suggest you never drink it again." He closed the door and returned to help his partner with the passenger. The two officers settled Sam into the back seat next to his partner.

"How you doing partner?"

"Not doing much but sitting here trying to figure how I am supposed to watch my head."

"What?"

"He told me to watch my head."

"Are you serious, man?"

G winked at him and chuckled.

"I ought to slug you."

"But you can't quite reach me with your wrists in handcuffs?"

"Do yourself a favor and never drink tequila again."

"You are the second wise ass who told me that, I think, maybe the first, who knows, and who really cares." G slumped in his seat and rested his head on the back of the seat. "I hope I don't hurl again."

"Especially on me."

"Aw, poor big guy doesn't want to get recycled pizza all over him."

"In a minute I'm gonna find something to shove in your mouth."

"You're gonna wait that long?"

"Both of you shut your mouths," one officer said, as he settled into the driver's seat.

"Well, that's succinct." G shifted his weight on the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"And final, mister." The officer eyed him in the rearview mirror.

G chuckled to himself as he shut his eyes.

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Thanks for reading.


	3. Drunk Tank, 3

**Thanks for the reviews and for reading.**

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**Title: Anniversary**

**Rating: T**

**Warning: None**

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer in Chapter 1: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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**Reviews appreciated and welcomed**

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**Drunk Tank**

**Chapter 3**

G rolled to his right side. It hurt less than where Sam had pummeled his left side with swift punches. He moaned and pulled what he thought was a blanket over his upper body. His head pounded, feeling as if someone was beating a bass drum between his ears. Too much alcohol. The pizza was excellent as usual. He groaned this time, the pounding more insistent. G opened his eyes and stared at the space between him and the far wall. Bars. Vertical metal bars divided the space off from a hallway. He shot up straight on the bed and scanned the single cell. What in the hell? G dropped his head to both hands and mumbled to himself. This was not good, not good at all. Worse, he had no idea how he got here and where here was. G rose off the most uncomfortable mattress he had ever slept on and steadied his wavering body with the concrete block wall to his right. And he thought sleeping on the hardwood floor in Hetty's office was uncomfortable. When he reached the bars he glanced to his left and saw his partner in the cell next to him.

"Sam."

"Yes?"

"Head hurts."

"Me too."

"Hetty's gonna kill us."

"Not necessarily so, Mr. Callen."

G flipped on his heels and grabbed the aqua blue, painted steel bars to steady himself. "Hetty."

"You two have some explaining to do before I bail you out of jail."

"G was hallucinating—"

"On my 200 dollar a bottle Gran Patrón Platinum Silver Tequila."

"200 dollars," G said, his jaw dropping.

"Yes, Mr. Callen."

"Had I known—"

"It was your idea to drink my tequila, Mr. Hanna?"

"Yes, sorry."

"I'll add that cost to the damages and the extra work you are both doing to make up for the fines and bail I'll pay."

"Fines?" G's jaw lowered again.

"Yes, Mr. Callen, fines and bail."

"Both?"

"Yes."

"Fines for what?"

"I assume you both have no memory for what transpired last night."

"Just him," Sam said, standing up for the first time and staggering toward the bars. He steadied himself with his left hand on a cold steel bar and rubbed his right temple with his right hand.

Hetty faced her lead agent. "The officer who wrote the report said you were hallucinating on my precious tequila."

"Yes, thought an escort service was chasing us down the PCH." Sam grasped both hands around the bars.

"Need to go lie down." G stumbled toward his bed, holding his head with one hand. "Never again with tequila." Before he reached the bunk, he made a quick detour to the toilet, vomiting up chunks of pizza. After wiping his face, he staggered back to his bunk and climbed into bed, pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

"The report said you told the officer the helicopter was giving you orders."

"Yes, but I don't remember much else besides taking the Jag out for a spin."

"Joyriding. Reckless evasion of an officer. DUI. Possession of an open bottle of alcohol in a vehicle. Driving without a license and registration, not to mention no insurance card."

"Hetty," G sat up and quickly laid back down again. The room spun and his head pounded.

"First things first, let's get you both out of here, and Mr. Callen to the emergency room."

"I just need to rest—"

"Promise me you won't fight this or I'll allow them to keep you another day or so."

"You wouldn't."

"You want me to press this?" Hetty asked, flipping on her heels and leaving the hallway.

"She didn't even wait for an answer," he said.

"Don't push it, G, you are walking on her wild side now," he said, stumbling over to his own bunk and lying down again.

"Hetty has a wild side?"

"Don't even go there, man."

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**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

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Thirty minutes later, Sam and G eased themselves into the back seat of the black SUV, and Hetty and Deeks settled into the front seat.

"First the hospital for Mr. Callen," Hetty said.

Deeks started the SUV and drove toward the hospital.

"Stop the car!" G rolled down his window and vomited.

"Motion sickness?" Sam asked.

"No, tequila sickness if there is such a thing."

"One can have an allergy or sensitivity to agave, Mr. Callen."

"Great, just what I don't need right now."

"That's why the hospital."

G leaned his head out the window again and retched hard. He pulled his head back inside and settled against the door frame.

"You're bleeding," Sam said.

"What?"

"Your nose."

Hetty handed Sam a handkerchief and dialed 911 on her cell phone.

G grabbed the handkerchief from his partner's hand before the man could dab it on his nose. "I'll do it." He held it tight against the end of his nose.

"Just trying to help."

"Mr. Callen, head tilted backward and apply pressure to the nose."

"Got it." He leaned out the window again, spewing pizza chunks against the side of the SUV. After settling back onto the seat, he asked, "Who did you call?"

"911, Mr. Callen."

"What?"

"I know a reaction to agave when I see one."

G tilted his head back and applied pressure to his nose again. "You are the third person to tell me that."

"You know what they say, G, three times a—"

"Shut up." Another wave of nausea pushed upward from his stomach.

"Where's that stellar sense of humor?"

"I hurled it out the window." The corners of G's mouth turned upward. "You'll find it plastered to the sides of the SUV."

"No thanks, I'll pass."

"Aw, big guy doesn't want to be humored?"

"Watch it, man."

"I'm watching right now." G leaned out the window and hurled more pizza. "I see red lights."

"Your _escort service_," Sam said with a straight face. "What are they saying to you?"

"They're saying it's time for a second wrestling match."

Deeks pulled over to the emergency lane on the freeway and stopped. The emergency vehicle pulled over at the same time. One paramedic came along side the passenger side and up to the front door.

"Must be the right vehicle," the man said, "the telltale signs are plastered on the SUV's side. Who's the patient?"

"Behind me in the back seat," Hetty said, pointing to her lead agent.

The average height man with sun-bleached blond hair opened the passenger door. Another taller, bulkier man joined him. "Can you stand?"

"Yes, at least I did before I got into the SUV."

They helped Callen out of the vehicle and assisted him to lie on the stretcher.

"Is this necessary, Hetty?" G asked, turning his head and waiting for an answer.

"Remember what I said back there, no fighting this."

He sighed and laid back against the stretcher. "I need to sit up, gonna be sick."

The blond haired man raised the head of the stretcher to its highest position. "How's that?"

G turned to his left and vomited more pizza. "Too late."

"We'll take care of that nausea and vomiting ASAP."

"I want to go with my partner," Sam said.

"On the condition you don't leave the hospital under any circumstances."

"Believe me, that's the last time I let G drink that stuff and I don't plan on any joyrides again."

"Go." Hetty shooed Mr. Hanna out of the vehicle, motioning with one hand.

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**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

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Sam hung back until the paramedics had placed his partner inside the ambulance. He climbed in and settled next to the blond haired man.

"Agave poisoning is rare," the man said, "seen it once before."

"Poisoning?" Sam asked.

"Yes, when someone is sensitive to it like our John Doe here."

"How much tequila did you two drink?" the bulkier man with dark brown almost black hair asked.

Sam swallowed hard, admitting how much they drank without appearing to be stupid was going to be difficult. "A lot."

"I take it he had the lion's share?"

"Actually not."

The blond haired paramedic finished taking several vials of blood and inserted an intravenous line with fluids into the tubing on his patient's left forearm. "Here's that antiemetic I promised you." He slowly injected into the IV tubing. "You are going to feel drowsy in a few minutes."

"It was the best anniversary and tequila, well, until I started to hallucinate."

"Okay, just how much did you two consume?"

This time it was G's turn to swallow hard. "I drank a half bottle of Glenlivet XXV Scotch and about one third of the Gran Patrón Platinum Silver Tequila."

"No wonder you've got symptoms," the man said. "We need to get this new information to the hospital." He eyed his fellow paramedic, who disappeared into the front seat. "And we need to change the IV over to dextrose because of what you just shared. This is what we initially suspected, alcohol poisoning. You said you hallucinated."

"Yes, thought a helicopter was talking to me," G said, slurring his words. He declined to tell them about believing the police chasing him was an escort service. That hallucination was too embarrassing to share.

"Any seizures?" the man asked, eyeing both his patient and his friend.

"No," G said.

The paramedic pulled a blanket out of warming oven and placed it over his patient. "I know it is a warm day but shock from vomiting is a strong possibility."

"My nose bled after vomiting."

"Hard retching?"

"Yes."

"That should dissipate after the nausea and vomiting cease."

"Hospital ordered a thiamin injection and oxygen by mask," the blond haired paramedic said as he settled down next to Sam again.

"No mask," G said.

"A cannula won't be sufficient if we want to be successful at preventing brain damage and worsening symptoms," dark haired paramedic said.

"Hate those things, but I'll do it."

"A cooperative patient."

"No, more like forced cooperation from the little lady in the front seat." Sam winked at his partner.

"Time to transport."

"Wait, I thought you were treating the symptoms and releasing me."

"This is alcohol poisoning and a serious condition," the blond haired paramedic said. "It can cause brain damage and even death."

"How come he didn't get it?" G asked, pointing his now shaky hand in Sam's direction.

"He's a bigger guy and you had a reaction to the agave on top of the alcohol poisoning."

"I'm not liking the sound of this," he said, "and don't you say it to me too."

"Tell you that you should not drink—"

"Just do me favor and don't say it." G closed his eyes and sulked.

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**Thanks for reading. More to come.**


	4. Distilled Spirits, 4

**Thanks for all the reviews. Here is the final chapter for this short story. Enjoy!**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Title: Anniversary**

**Rating: T**

**Warning: None**

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer in Chapter 1: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed**

* * *

**Distilled Spirits**

**Chapter 4**

"What do they mean by controlled release?" G asked his partner after he climbed into the passenger's seat of his Jaguar XK.

"You are still suffering from the effects of the tequila and under direct doctor's care," Sam said, revving the engine.

"You love driving my car and revving its engine."

"Yes." Sam grinned. "And you are not able to drive until the doctor releases you."

"Great, are you going to hold my hand when he does?"

His partner shot him a look and backed the Jaguar out of its parking space in the hospital's parking garage. "I hope you don't expect me to cover for your hallucinations."

"Are we starting this again?"

"Yes, and I'm not going to stop bantering you about it."

"And what's wrong with an escort service?"

"Or a talking helicopter for that matter?"

G sighed extra loud and crossed his arms. He stared out the windshield.

"Hetty has a new ops for us." Sam decided to let his partner off the hook, at least for now.

"I suppose I am restricted from that too."

"Nope." He pulled behind NCIS Headquarters and parked the Jaguar. "No restrictions."

"According to whom?"

"Hetty." Sam unbuckled his seatbelt. "Well, there is one."

"Okay, lay it on me."

"You can't drive."

"Besides that?"

"You can't wrestle."

"What?" G shot his partner a look.

Sam climbed out of the Jaguar and strode toward the side entrance to NCIS Headquarters. "What no come back?"

G came along side him. "You are overdo for a rematch."

"Ah, there's the partner banter I've been missing."

"It was only a week."

"Four days two long."

They entered the building and strode toward the bullpen.

"Callen, welcome back," Kensi said.

"Thanks, Kens," G said. "At least someone missed me."

Sam shot him a look. "Keep pressing this."

"You said _you_ wouldn't let up."

"Talk to any UFO's lately?" Deeks asked.

"What?"

"Unidentified Flying Objects."

"I heard you the first time," G said. "So this is going to be the next harassment, my own team turning against me."

Before anyone could answer, Eric whistled with his newest accoutrement, a B & R police whistle.

"That's it!" G rushed over to the stairs and chased after Eric, trying to grab the whistle from him.

"I think you got him good," Deeks said, grinning wide.

"Thanks for finding it for Eric," Sam said.

The team ascended the stairs to the OPS Center and entered the secure room to see Eric standing on the light table with his hand raised high in the air.

Sam watched his partner start to climb onto the light table. "I don't know if it can hold both of you."

"It better because I'm going to kill him."

"Down G, I put him up to it."

"What?" He climbed off the light table and faced his partner. "You?"

"It was a joke."

"Some joke." G crossed his arms and faced the high definition video screen.

Eric climbed off the far side of the light table, skirting a wide circle around Callen.

Hetty strode into the OPS Center. "Welcome back, Mr. Callen."

"Thanks Hetty." At least his supervisor was not in on the new bantering.

"We have a serious breach at a secret facility outside of Los Angeles."

"How serious?" G asked.

"Serious enough to send an alert to all top secret military facilities within 343 miles."

"343 miles?"

"Yes, Mr. Callen, 343 miles."

"Why not 400 miles?"

"The military requested that specific number."

G glanced at her sideways.

"Mr. Beale." She nodded at the tech to begin the video. "The facility manufactures a liquid which can be volatile when it comes into contact with certain people. A small percentage of the population has proven to be susceptible to its properties."

"How so?" Mr. Callen asked.

"Mr. Beale?"

Eric presented the next video of Area 51.

"This military facility is most vulnerable and it falls within the 343 mile range it specified."

G gawked at the video screen. She had to be joking.

"Problem, Mr. Callen?"

"Isn't that Area 51 in Nevada?"

"Yes, it is."

"Is there something I'm missing here?" G shifted his weight from foot to foot and sighed. Something about this ops was all wrong.

"It appears they hallucinate and see and talk to UFOs," Hetty said, with a straight face.

"You're kidding… right?"

"Would I joke with you, Mr. Callen, especially on your first day out of the hospital?"

"Everyone else has so I wouldn't put it past you."

Instead of answering her agent's concerns she said, "The address is on your cell phones."

G stood staring at her open-mouthed.

"Come on G, let's go."

"Wait a minute, what does that facility manufacture?" He asked, arms still crossed, facing his supervisor and waiting for an answer.

"It manufactures…" Hetty said, pausing for maximum emphasis. "Distilled agave spirits."

* * *

**The end.**

**Thanks for reading.**


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